This is a soft chapter. Trust me, it'll all be important in the end.
THE THERMOPYLAE
By TIPPER
———————————————————————————
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE LOWER DECK
The armory was on the lower level, which they accessed through the floor hatches in the control room. On alert, because they'd yet to explore down here, Teyla led the way with her P90, moving slowly but confidently down the stairs to the floor below...
According to McKay, the lower floor was accessed by two narrow hallways, one on the port side and one on the starboard side. He told Sheppard that they functioned a little like the corridors on a 747—just without the fear of being run over by the drinks cart. Teyla just shook her head at that, hoping she never found out exactly what dangerous beast a drinks cart was.
Waving a hand over the panel to open the door leading to the portside corridor, Teyla grimaced as the powerful smell of mold and dust assaulted her senses. Curiously, unlike the central floor, control room and engine room…it actually smelled old down here. She guessed it had to do with the damaged hull—the ancient hole in the side would have affected this level more than the others.
She moved into the corridor, which was dark gunmetal grey in color, and a lot less attractive than the whitewashed central floor. It was far more utilitarian…and a little depressing.
Moving forward, she glanced at the numerous doors on her right, recognizing that they were probably just small, shallow closets. In contrast, on the left were only three wide doors. The first clearly read "Armory" in Athosian. Glancing down at the other two doors, she saw the word for "Kitchen" on the first and, even further down, "Gathering Hall" on the last—which was obviously the 'mess hall' Rodney had told her about earlier.
Waving her hand over the panel for the armory, the door slid open quietly to reveal…an almost empty room.
"Oh," McKay's voice was thick with disappointment, pushing past her to look around more carefully. "Damn."
"Doesn't look like they left anything behind," Ronon confirmed, walking in past Teyla—who still stood on the threshold—and stalking down one wall of nearly empty shelves. He picked up a couple of left behind objects, then put them down again. Obviously nothing of note.
"Keep looking," Sheppard ordered as he too walked inside past Teyla. "We could use any help we can get. We've got maybe two clips left each that we got from Lorne's team—it won't be enough to kill the…how many Wraith were there?"
"At least eleven now," Teyla said, moving out of the room and back into the hall. "Six near the crashed dart, and five on the far side of the village."
"Right," Sheppard shifted past the disappointed looking McKay to get to some boxes on a far wall. "Maybe there's some ordinance at least..."
Teyla lowered her head for a moment, listening to them banging away inside, then turned to look down at the other doors. Something felt odd, leaving a tingling along her spine, but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly. It just...for the first time, she felt like they were intruding somehow...
Walking quietly down the corridor, she stopped at the door to the kitchen and waved her hand over the panel.
Nothing happened.
She frowned, and tried again.
Still nothing happened.
The frown deepening on her face, she moved a little further and waved a hand over the panel for the mess hall.
Still nothing.
"Rodney?" she called, backing away. "Something is wrong with these doors."
"What?" he called back.
"I can not get the doors to the mess hall or kitchen to open," she answered. She looked back towards the armory in time to see his head pop out. He studied her for a second, as if questioning why she was even bothering, then curiosity overran reason and he came sauntering out, reaching her side quickly.
As she had done, he waved a hand over the panel to open the mess, but it didn't respond. Emitting a "hunh" of interest, he pulled out his scanner and ran it over the door.
"There's power," he muttered to himself softly, "so...why isn't it working...?" He tapped at the screen for a second, then waved it over the panel again. "Oh."
"Oh?" she repeated.
"There's a lock," he informed her, tilting his head.
She frowned, "Why?"
"I don't know." He frowned, put the scanner away, then dug his nails into the almost invisible seam around the panel. With a grunt, he pulled it off...revealing a series of crystals. He stared at it for a moment, then frowned. "Hang on..."
He pulled the scanner out again, then tapped something into the tiny screen. "Okay," he said, his tone still distracted, "I get it."
"What?" Teyla asked.
"The lock on the door is released using the same code I hacked to get to the black box. Whatever is inside, they wanted it protected until someone came along who could..." he trailed off, frowning.
"Who could...what?" she prompted.
"I don't know. Finish whatever the crew started, before they had to evacuate?"
"But they never finished their mission," Teyla noted. "They never reached the Lantean space station."
"I know," McKay frowned, sighed, then hit some more buttons. A second later, he waved his hand over the panel again...and this time it opened.
And both people froze.
The mess hall...had been turned into a morgue.
"By the Ancestors," Teyla breathed, stepping forward to the threshold, her eyes trailing across the large, plain room. It was cool inside—apparently the cloak was not the only thing that had been left running when the ship was evacuated. It also felt heavy in here, like someone was pressing down on her shoulders, forcing her to work a little harder to move forward.
"Well," McKay said softly after a moment, making no move to follow her inside, "now we know what happened to the crew that didn't survive the crash."
Every table had a sheet on it, and under every sheet was the unmistakable form of a body. There were also bodies on the floor, and some on benches. They had tags on them, presumably identification tags. Atop each body, at about chest level, was a small glowing, blue object that reminded her of the personal shield device once used by Rodney...
"What are...?" she gestured at the device on the nearest body.
"They're devices to hold the bodies still, and to help preserve them...a little like a stasis field," Rodney answered, his tone morose. "There were several found in the room next to the crematorium on Atlantis." He swallowed, and lifted his hand to look down at his scanner. "It's amazing they're still running. I'm sure they were never intended to last this long."
Teyla didn't respond, realizing it really didn't matter.
Moving into the room slowly, she walked slowly up to the first table, glancing at the outline of the face hidden by the white sheet, then to the tag on the chest, written in Athosian. Her breath stilled in her chest as she saw the symbol above the words—a green triangle, in the center of which was an eight pointed star. Licking her dry lips, she read the words below the symbol—the symbol of the Thermopylae.
Andrea Slocum, Engineer, died honorably in battle. Survived by a husband, Belem, and two children, Deering and Duykfen.
She swallowed thickly, stepping over to the next table, and the next sheet covered body.
Halling Elhorria, Second Officer, died honorably in battle. Survived by a wife, Ismay, and a son, Linton.
With a frown at the familiar first name, she moved on to the next.
Captain Leyda Emeras, Captain of the Thermopylae, died honorably in battle. Survived by a husband, Thayer.
"Teyla," McKay called softly, and she could hear the worry in his voice.
Teyla didn't answer, moving to the next table. This one carried the mark of Atlantis on the tag instead of the white star, and, instead of Athosian, the tag was written in Ancient.
Donal Magay, Lantean Science Officer, Ship-Builder and co-creator of the Thermopylae. Died honorably in battle.
"Teyla," Rodney called again. "We need to get going."
She glanced back at him, lowered her gaze, and gave a small nod. With a far more somber air than he had ever seen her carry, she walked quietly back to his side in the hallway. He shut the door behind her.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, watching her with concern.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at him. "For what?"
"Well," he grimaced, "I mean...they're...your people."
She gave a tiny smile, "It is not as if I knew them, Rodney."
"I know," he said, clearly struggling. "Just, you looked...you know...sad."
Her smile grew, "It is all right, Rodney. I am fine."
"Hey, you two!" Sheppard said, grinning as he walked out from the armory and waving at them. "We found something which I'm pretty sure are grenades. Meaning, we have some extra oomph!"
Teyla met his gaze, and Sheppard's grin faltered, aware that he must have just missed something. When he frowned, opening his mouth to ask what the matter was, she cut him off with a raised hand.
"Shall we?" she asked, hefting the P90 in her hand.
——————————————————————————————-
TBC...
Tomorrow, it all gets fun again!